Being Alone Never Felt Right. Sometimes It

Now Something So Sad Has Hold Of Us That The Breath Leaves And We Can't Even Cry.

I Was Beaten Down Long Ago In Some Alley In Another World.

I Am A Poem. There Is No Way Out.

If You Let Them Kill You, They Will

I Felt Like Crying But Nothing Came Out. It Was Just A Sort Of Sad Sickness, Sick Sad, When You Can't Feel Any Worse. I Think You Know It. I Think Everybody Knows It Now And Then. But I Think I Have Known It Pretty Often, Too Often.